Funny Friday – Nov. 1, 2013

The only cow in a small town in Ireland stopped giving milk. Then the town folk found they could buy a cow in Scotland quite cheaply. So, they brought the cow over from Scotland.

It was absolutely wonderful, it produced lots of milk every day and everyone was happy.

They bought a bull to mate with the cow to get more cows, so they’d never have to worry about their milk supply again. They put the bull in the pasture with the cow but whenever the bull tried to mount the cow, the cow would move away.

No matter what approach the bull tried, the cow would move away from the bull and he was never able to do the deed.

The people were very upset and decided to go to the Vet, who was very wise, tell him what was happening and ask his advice.

“Whenever the bull tries to mount our cow, she moves away. If he approaches from the back, she moves forward. When he approaches her from the front, she backs off. If he attempts it from the one side, she walks away to the other side.”

The Vet rubbed his chin thoughtfully and pondered this before asking,

“Did you by chance, buy this cow in Scotland?”

The people were dumbfounded, since no one had ever mentioned that they had brought the cow over from Scotland .

“You are truly a wise Vet,” they said.

“How did you know we got the cow from Scotland?

The Vet replied with a distant look in his eye, “My wife is from Scotland.”

—oo—

—oo—

The mother-in-law arrives home from the shops to find her son-in-law Paddy in a steaming rage and hurriedly packing his suitcase.

“What happened Paddy ?” she asks anxiously.

“What happened!! I’ll tell you what happened. I sent an email to my wife telling her I was coming home today from my fishing trip. I get home… and guess what I found ? Yes, your daughter, my wife Jean, naked with Joe Murphy in our marital bed! This is unforgivable, the end of our marriage. I’m done. I’m leaving forever!”

“Ah now, calm down, calm down Paddy!” says his mother-in-law. “There is something very odd going on here. Jean would never do such a thing! There must be a simple explanation. I’ll go speak to her immediately and find out what happened.”

Moments later, the mother-in-law comes back with a big smile.

“Paddy. I told you there must be a simple explanation …..she never got your E-mail!”

—oo—

Last week it was reported that major food companies are partnering with the Obamas to promote healthy eating.

Here are the first two products.

—oo—

A golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he found a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head and the golfer’s ball beside him. Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it over the little guy, reviving him.

‘Why, it’s just wonderful!’ the golfer states. ‘When I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out $100 bills I didn’t even know were there!’

‘I did that fer ye also.’ And tell me, how’s yer sex life?’

The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment and says shyly, ‘It’s OK.’

C’mon, c’mon now,’ urged the Leprechaun,’I’m wantin’ to know if I did a good job. How many times a week?’

Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, ‘Once, sometimes twice a week.’

‘What??’ responds the Leprechaun in shock. ‘That’s all? Only once or twice a week?’

‘Well,’ says the golfer, ‘I figure that’s not bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish.

—oo—

—oo—

Researchers for the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority found over 200 dead crows near greater Boston recently, and there was concern that they may have died from Avian Flu.

A Bird Pathologist examined the remains of all the crows, and, to everyone’s relief, confirmed the problem was definitely NOT Avian Flu. The cause of death appeared to be vehicular impacts.

However, during the detailed analysis it was noted that varying colors of paints appeared on the bird’s beaks and claws. By analyzing these paint residues it was determined that 98% of the crows had been killed by impact with trucks, while only 2% were killed by an impact with a car.

MTA then hired an Ornithological Behaviorist to determine if there was a cause for the disproportionate percentages of truck kills versus car kills.

The Ornithological Behaviorist very quickly concluded the cause.

.

.

.

.

When crows eat road kill, they always have a look-out crow in a nearby tree to warn of impending danger.

The conclusion was that while all the lookout crows could say “Cah”, none could say “Truck.”

—oo—

—oo—

The Italian lover, a virile middle-aged gentlemen named Guido, was relaxing at his favorite bar in Rome when he managed to attract a spectacular young blonde woman. Things progressed to the point where he led her back to his apartment and, after some small talk, they retired to his bedroom where he rattled her senseless. After a pleasant interlude, he asked with a smile, “So, you finish?” She paused for a second, frowned, and replied. “No.”

Surprised, Guido reached for her and the rattling resumed. This time she thrashed about wildly and there were screams of passion. The sex finally ended and, again, Guido smiled and asked, “You finish?”

Again, after a short pause, she returned his smile, cuddled closer to him and softly said, “No.”

Stunned, but refusing to leave this woman unsatisfied, Guido reached for the woman yet again. Using the last of his strength, he barely managed it, but they ended together screaming, bucking, clawing and ripping the bed sheets.

Exhausted, Guido fell onto his back, gasping. Barely able to turn his head, he looked into her eyes, smiled proudly and asked again, “You finish?”

15 Responses to Funny Friday – Nov. 1, 2013

Good stuff. A true golf story, from a good friend. He, his father, and brother, were out playing a couple rounds, when Dad makes a long drive that hooks off into some brush. They hear this “OUCH AHHHHH I’ve been hit!!!. So, they go over to the area the caterwauling was coming from, and here’s a guy rubbing the back of his head. Of course, they ask the fellow if he’s OK,and after ascertaining the guy was a bit on the shady side, the guy asks who hit the shot which nailed him. Well, Dad pipes up and says “I did”. And the guy says “Well, what are you going to do about it”? Dad says “maybe I need to turn the face of the club out a bit more”.

This is a story about a couple who had been happily married for years, the only friction in their marriage was the husband’s habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke the noise would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air.

Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. He told her he couldn’t stop it and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a doctor, she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out.

The years went by and he continued to rip them out. Then one Christmas day morning, as she was preparing the turkey for dinner and he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the innards, neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts, and a malicious thought came to her. She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and, gently pulling the bed covers back, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.

Sometime later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bath room. The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good. About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his blood stained underpants with a look of horror on his face.

She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter. He said, “Honey you were right… all these years you have warned me and I didn’t listen to you.” “What do you mean?” asked his wife. “Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened, but by the grace of God, some Vaseline and two fingers. I think I got most of them back in……………….…..”

You Guys are TOPS~!
But here’s one that just crossed my desk~! And is allegedly a true story,,, ,,, ,,,

Location, Location, Location

In the news this week, a Southern California man was put under 72-hour psychiatric observation when it was found he owned 100 guns and had (by rough estimate) one million rounds of ammunition stored in his home. The house also has a secret escape tunnel.

The television reporter said: “Wow! He has about a million machine gun bullets!” and the headline referred to it as a “massive weapons cache.”

By California standards someone owning even 100,000 rounds would be called “mentally unstable.”

If he lived elsewhere, such as Arizona , he’d be called “an avid gun collector. ”

In Oklahoma , he’d be called “a novice gun collector.”

In Utah , he’d be called “moderately well prepared”, but they’d probably reserve judgment until they made sure that he had a corresponding quantity of stored food.

In Montana , he’d be called “the neighborhood ‘Go-To’ guy.”

In Idaho , he’d be called “a likely gubernatorial candidate.”

In Wyoming , he’d be called “an eligible bachelor”.

And… In Texas , he’d be called “a Hunting Buddy.”

* * * * *
And thanks to Nanny Bloomberg, in Colorado his magazines would need to be checked to make sure they don’t hold more than 2 rounds.

Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.

BUMP…

BUMP…

BUMP…

Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.

FASTER…

FASTER…

BUMP…

BUMP…

BUMP…

He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, rushes in, slams and locks the door behind him.
However, the casket crashes through his door, with the lid of the casket clapping.

clappity-BUMP…

clappity-BUMP…

clappity-BUMP…

on his heels. The terrified man runs……
Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door.
Bumping and clapping toward him.

The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup!

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